


Predatory Behavior

by kaeorin



Series: Stark Tower: Avengers Drabbles [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Essentially: imagine asking Loki (without actually realizing it’s him) to save you from a catcaller/creep on the streets. Inspired by an imagine on the imagine-loki Tumblr.





	Predatory Behavior

Ordinarily, you loved the city at night. Walking yourself home from work wasn’t usually a problem. You’d always felt like it let you really get the feel for New York—the people on the sidewalk, the lights, the sounds. New York was alive, and you loved every bit of it. Especially in the spring. The days hadn’t yet started to get warm enough to make the streets smell like sun-baked garbage, but you no longer had to bundle up tightly in a thick coat and boots. Tonight, for example, you wore the same simple blouse and flowy skirt that you’d worn to work and relished the feeling of the night air on your knees. 

You were less of a fan of the men who lurked on the corners and against buildings and treated passing women like public property. Sometimes you wore earbuds (no music, of course) to pretend to block out the sounds, but it was still a relatively common occurrence—hearing men shout crude things at you, or sickening “compliments” that made you want to break into a run. When you walked at night, you typically left the earbuds in your purse. Maybe that was a mistake tonight. As you’d passed one of the buildings on your way home, a male voice had called to you from a stoop. “Hey, you got a light?”

Somehow still stuck just a little too firmly in Work Mode, you’d paused in your tracks and patted the pockets of your skirt for a lighter, even though you didn’t smoke and never had. When you offered him an apologetic shrug, he ambled down the steps to stand in front of you. He looked...normal enough: basketball shorts and a tank top with Greek letters on it. You didn’t recognize them, but they didn’t set off any alarm bells.

 _Something_ did, though. Maybe it was his eyes? The way he looked at you? The way he stood too close? He wasn’t shouting foul things at you, but his eyes had the familiar, predatory glint in them. You fought the urge to take a step backwards and instead raised your chin to meet his gaze. If he recognized the challenge, he gave no indication.

“I got nothing,” you said in a neutral tone. “Sorry. There’s a bodega about a block back, though. They probably have something.”

He took a step backwards then, but it was no retreat. His eyes raked over you in a way that made you wish you had your knee-length parka tonight. When he lifted his gaze back to your face, you caught the faint hint of a smirk. “It’s fine. Hey, you should come inside. My brothers and I, we’re having a party. I think you’d have a really good time.”

“Oh!” You looked back at the stoop he’d come from. There was a light on above the door, and a few lights shone through the windows. There was really no reason for you to feel as edgy as you were feeling right now, but you didn’t let yourself shake it off. “Thanks, but...no. I’m actually running late to meet my fiance, so...I’m gonna get going. Maybe someone at the party has a light?” You twisted a bit to get around him on the sidewalk without coming into contact with any part of him. You hated how hard your heart was beating. Interacting with people was a normal and expected part of living in the city. As a young woman, maybe you were socialized to be on higher-alert than this guy apparently was, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t a perfectly normal interaction. 

“What kind of fiance doesn’t give his girl a ring?” His voice was cold. Before you could stop yourself, you glanced back at him over your shoulder. No one had ever noticed before, or, if they had, no one had ever persisted past the word “fiance” before. Your first instinct was to make up some kind of cover story, but you held your tongue and offered him a shrug and a bland smile instead. Even in a normal interaction, he wasn’t entitled to all the details of your personal life. You continued walking, though now at a much quicker pace than before.

It didn’t take long before you heard the footsteps behind you.

You didn’t bother wasting time trying to convince yourself that they weren’t his. No one else had been anywhere near the two of you when you’d stopped to talk. Frantically, you tried to pull up your mental maps of the city, to try to remember if there were any shops along the same path you were taking. Maybe you were overreacting? Maybe he was just going to a store like you’d said, and it just so happened to be somewhere up ahead? You couldn’t remember anything specific, but then, you couldn’t remember _anything_. You tightened your fingers around your purse strap, not to keep a grip on the purse itself, but simply to stop the trembling in your fingers. 

You called to mind something you’d seen on the internet, something you’d more or less made a part of yourself when you moved here: When someone won’t leave you alone, latch yourself on to someone else and pretend you’re best friends, or long-lost relatives, or something like that. Safety in numbers and all that. There was only one problem. Somehow, during the course of that short conversation back there, all the life had disappeared from the streets of the neighborhood. It was like a ghost town. Every once in a while, you could hear the honk of a distant car horn but there was no one on the streets. 

There was always your phone. If you could maintain control over your hands long enough to reach into your purse, you could dial someone’s number and talk loudly at them until you got home. But probably not. To do that, you might have to slow your pace, and that felt like an impossibility. You should have just called a cab or something. It was expensive, sure, but was _this_ any better?

Desperately, you started scripting out a conversation in your mind, just in case someone happened to step out of one of the doorways at just the right minute. _Please God, pretend you know me. I think someone’s following me._ _I need your help_ _._ Simple stuff, really. Was your tongue swelling in your mouth, or was that your imagination? You swallowed hard and glanced backwards over your shoulder.

It was, of course, the guy from the stoop. He was following too close behind you, and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. In the shadows cast by the streetlights, his face looked...stiff. Almost dead. When he caught you looking, though, his face seemed to reanimate: he lifted his eyebrows and smirked at you. You got the uncomfortable notion that he knew what he was doing. Whether or not he was simply making his way to some other bodega, he knew that he was freaking you out. Just as you were trying to decide whether to say something to him, he jolted forward in a strange little hop, further shortening the distance between you. Fuck. You turned back around and sped up.

There, against a building up ahead. Your heart surged in your chest. There was a shadowy figure leaning against the brick, his face illuminated by a soft blue glow. There was something about the shape of him that prickled something in your mind, some memory. You knew him, but...not personally. You’d seen him somewhere, maybe quite a lot. Your panicked brain offered only fragmented images: the giant tower. The Avengers. He was an Avenger? Maybe? Tears sprang into your eyes. Whoever he actually was, you knew that saving one stupid girl wasn’t really in his job description, but surely he was a good enough guy?

“Babe! Sorry I’m so late!” You flung your hand into the air in an attempt at a careless wave and forced yourself not to cringe when your voice came out as a croak. He looked up quickly at the sound, and it didn’t take long for his eyes to focus on you. You hurried the last few steps over to him and lowered your voice as much as you dared. “Please help me. He’s following me? I don’t know what to do?” 

He tucked something into his pocket and pushed off of the wall to close the remaining distance between you. He was tall and lithe in a way that didn’t actually read as “Avenger” to your dulled brain. Weren’t most of those guys huge and muscular? You lifted your eyes to his face, taking in the dark clothing, the sleek hair, the sharp angles of his face. Your blood went cold. He was not an Avenger. 

He _was_ familiar to you, of course: he’d been on television screens everywhere after the attack of the city. Shaky camera phone footage, questionable sketches, an actual photograph here and there. This was the man who’d craved subjugation, domination. This was the man behind the attack on New York. This was Loki, of Asgard.

And he was your only hope.

You caught the way he shifted his gaze past you, taking in the appearance of your pursuer. You didn’t hear his footsteps anymore; perhaps he’d realized, much more quickly than you had, who you were talking to. Loki slipped his arm around you, pulling you in to tuck you securely against him, and lifted his free hand to brush the back of his knuckles against your cheek. Electric chills rushed through your body at the contact; it was all you could do to blink slowly at him.

“Don’t worry, pet. You’re right on time.” He looked at the other man again, this time fixing him with the full intensity of his icy gaze. “You’ve brought a friend?”

The boy stammered out an explanation before your brain can quite finish processing Loki’s words. “I—No, I was just—She was walking by herself, man. It’s not safe.”

For the briefest of moments, you felt your cheeks grow warm. If he was telling the truth, then you were getting all worked up over nothing. But you forced the thought away. Of course he wasn’t telling the truth. Your gut wasn’t wrong.

“Ah, good. I am immensely grateful to you, then. The streets are indeed crawling with any number of hungry predators.” Loki’s voice was low, but somehow you had no trouble understanding him. He stepped closer to your pursuer, and—did the streetlights go dim? A low hissing washed through the street, followed by the sound of something large, and low, and heavy, slithering along the pavement. “I’ve heard they drape themselves in night and watch with cold unblinking eyes, waiting for their next meal to blunder along.” 

Surely you were hallucinating. Several large snakes had begun to creep out of the shadows, writhing along towards where your pursuer stood. The three of you watched as they circled around him, coiling themselves around his ankles to lock him in place. You heard him choke out a moan but, strangely, you felt no sympathy for him. 

Another sound came from behind you now: a growl that rumbled like thunder. Loki gave no indication of having heard it at all, but the guy’s eyes sought out the source. It was behind you. It sounded large. Against your better judgment, you turned around to look. It was hard to make it out exactly, but you got the impression of a wolflike monster lurking somewhere behind you in the street. It was bigger than you, bigger than any person, and it waited there, low to the ground. The only part that you could make out with any certainty were its eyes, which cast a red glow into the darkness. 

“Or else they lurk, like hunters, in the shadows. It is a very good thing indeed that you were here tonight, mortal. Who knows what other dangers might have awaited her, hm? Because surely you never posed any danger to her? Not a fine, upstanding young man like yourself?”

Even from where you were standing, you could see the snakes coiling tighter. One pulled the upper part of its body into the air, as though it were studying his face. As though it were looking for the truth. He made a few more attempts at coherent speech, but no actual words escaped his mouth. Loki stepped closer to him and lowered his voice: the sound of it still made its way to your ears, though you could no longer make out what he was saying. The guy’s reaction spoke volumes, however: his eyes went wide and wild, and he even cast a desperate glance in your direction. You still weren’t quite motivated to help him, and though that made you a little uneasy, even the uneasiness did not move you.

The rumbling behind you had escalated into something closer to a snarl. The hair on the back of your neck was standing up, but you forced yourself to keep breathing normally. Loki finished speaking and took a step backwards again, but then barked, in a rough and fearsome voice, some unfamiliar word. The wolf sprang into action. Your body went cold as it ran through you, but you were otherwise unscathed. Loki stepped to the side, and time seemed to slow. The guy screamed and struggled against his bonds, which held fast. Until they didn’t. Just as the wolf closed in on him, and started to close its cavernous jaws around him, the snakes disappeared, all but flinging him to the ground. He scrambled to his feet in an instant and turned to run in the direction from whence he’d come. The wolf followed him to the end of the block, only to disappear into mist.

Loki watched after him for several long moments, his shoulders moving as though he were laughing. Finally, however, he turned around. When his eyes landed on you, he seemed...surprised? His eyebrows shot up his forehead and his mouth dropped open, but it only lasted a moment before he regained control.

“Thank you...” You hated how weak your voice sounded, but you had to say something.

“Of course. If someone is desperate enough to ask _me_ for help, how could I refuse?” He approached you again, but slowly. Suddenly, you were filled with absolute certainty that he was doing it so you had time to run, or at least to flinch away. You squared your shoulders to prove a point.

He seemed amused by your reaction. When he was standing directly in front of you, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and offered it to you. “You’re trembling.”

Your brain raced a mile a minute to come up with some justification for that fact, only to dismiss each one in turn. It’s the cold. It’s fear. It’s adrenaline. The wolf. The thought of what could have been. Instead, you simply took the jacket with another murmured thanks. He was wearing a simple black dress-shirt beneath his jacket and, despite all that had just happened, you couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the way it fit him. A part of you was curious about where he’d just been, for him to be dressed in earthly clothing like this, but...how could you ask?

You stole a glance at his face, but he was already studying yours. A faint smile lifted the corners of his lips when he caught you looking. “Shall I walk you home?” He offered you his arm, the very picture of a fairy-tale prince. You slipped your hand into the crook of his elbow and the two of you began walking.

“The snakes...” You began, not quite sure what you were trying to ask. “And the wolf? How… What were they?”

He laughed quietly. “Only an illusion. I saw that flash of horror in your eyes; I’ll assume that you know who I am?”

“No, I—” You were conflicted. He had scared the life out of that guy, perhaps simply because you’d seemed desperate. Of course, that couldn’t possibly erase the destruction and havoc that he had rained down upon New York not all that long ago, but...it was at least a little more meaningful to you on a personal level. “I’m sorry. My brain wasn’t working right. You looked familiar. I recognized you, but I couldn’t place you. I just knew I needed help. And then when I realized who I’d thrown myself at...” Your cheeks burned a little.

“Well, I commend you for your restraint. You could have run screaming into the arms of that boy.” When he laughed, there was no mirth in the sound. “You are braver than many.”

You walked in silence a little longer. All the footage that had been plastered across televisions had showed someone terrifying, threatening, dangerous. But there had been something more there. You’d never breathed a word of it to any of your friends or coworkers, knowing how relentlessly they would mock you for seeing something that wasn’t there. But you could have sworn that there was a certain desperation in his face. He’d been cold, calculating, but with a strange kind of wildness in his eyes that was not there tonight.

It really wasn’t your place to ask. Hell, you weren’t even really sure _how_ to ask. But there was something about the silence that seemed to invite the question. You drew in a breath. “Are you...well? Are things better for you now than they were before?”

Another humorless laugh, but this time he paused and turned to face you. “You’re asking me what drove me to attack your city, I presume?”

“No.” You felt your face twist in thought. “I mean, not really. You just seem...more...in control? More _present_ now than you did when they showed you on the news.” He didn’t answer, and instead stood there silently just long enough for sheer crushing embarrassment to make you regret the question. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business, anyway. Thanks again for...you know...saving me.” You started to slide his jacket off of your arms so you could flee from him and forget that any of this had happened, but he reached out and clasped his fingers around his lapels to still your movement.

“You are...very observant.” He smoothed down the fabric of the jacket and then let his hands drop away. Surely you didn’t _miss_ the closeness? He turned to continue on down the sidewalk. “Yes. Many things are better now.” The heaviness in his voice told you that there was something left unsaid.

You hesitated for a moment before following after him. It seemed like he could use a moment to himself “Well...good.” When you did take off after him, you caught up easily. He turned his head to look at you, and offered a smile that looked almost genuine. You smiled back.

His smile widened.


End file.
